


Flight Details

by Mossgreen



Series: 2770 ab urbe condita [26]
Category: 2770 ab urbe condita - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Master/Slave, Slavery, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 02:48:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15963086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossgreen/pseuds/Mossgreen
Summary: 2770ab urbe condita– from the founding of the city – and the Roman Empire is flourishing...Ven is learning about the first rule of air travel: Hurry up and wait.





	Flight Details

The journey to the airport had gone about as smoothly as anything: From the house on the Quirinal Hill to the Pincian Gate by two-cycle 'shaw (rickshaws and cycleshaws were the only wheeled vehicles allowed within the ancient Aurelian Walls of the city) to meet Master's driver with the car. Ven had loaded the luggage into the boot of the car and looked confused when told to get in; was he supposed to sit in the front with the free driver, or the back with his master, a dilemma speedily resolved when his master indicated the seat beside him. The last time Ven had been in a motor vehicle, he had been in the back of a van with a number of other slaves being brought up from Campania, and he had seen nothing of the countryside.

This drive, while more comfortable than the trip up from Campania (mostly; Ven was more than aware of the welts from the caning two days before – and really, had his master _had_ to do that to him, knowing they'd both be travelling today?) was a short one. There was traffic on the roads, naturally, but they reached the airport in good time. Ven unloaded the cases and followed his master inside, trying not to stop and stare – he didn't want to lose him, not here.

And really, there was a lot to stare at! It was almost as though someone had taken the Forum and roofed it with a great expanse of steel arching above them.

"You can stop and stare when we've checked in and have got through security," his master told him. "Keep up!"

Ven swallowed; his master wasn't the one towing two suitcases and feeling vaguely as though his arms were being pulled out of their sockets. “Yes, Master."

The girl at the desk – there was no queue; it seemed nobody particularly wanted to go to Britannia, (which was, in Ven's opinion, entirely understandable) – was polite enough, although she looked at Ven precisely as she might look at one of the columns holding the roof up. "Your identification, please, sir," she said, addressing the master with a business-like smile. "And the slave's travel permit, if he's travelling with you."

His master handed both documents to her and she checked them before looking at Ven with a bored expression. The clerk's eyes flickered to his neck and he assumed his best blank expression, keeping his eyes respectfully lowered, as she told him, “Put your finger on the scanner, there.” 

She indicated the scanner with a long turquoise-coloured nail. Ven stepped forward and pressed his left middle finger to the sensor, waiting for her nod before removing it and stepping back again. 

"Who packed the cases?"

Ven waited for his master to answer for him, feeling as if he'd rather like to just _be_ a piece of furniture if people were going to treat him like it. 

"My slave."

"Is there anything in there that shouldn't be, slave? Or anything at all other than what you were told to pack?"

"No, ma'am."

"Put it on the scale, there." She indicated the silver platform beside the desk and Ven lifted the case onto it. She fastened a long paper ribbon to it before sending it down a chute out of sight before addressing Ven's master again. "Do you have any hand luggage?"

"Yes." He gestured for Ven to put the smaller case on the scale.

"Anything sharp or dangerous in it?"” Her voice was bored as she addressed Ven, obviously feeling she'd get more sense from the column behind him.

"No, ma'am." His instructions had been clear: Anything of that nature was to go in the large suitcase, with no exceptions whatsoever.

"Very well." She passed the documents back to his master, along with a couple of printed bits of card. "Gate Nineteen, you already have your seating assignments."

Security was less of a hassle than Ven had expected after his master's complaints about it the other day, but he was still left trying to re-pack a camera, a laptop, a tablet and a tangle of wires as his master tapped his foot impatiently. He got them stowed eventually, privately wondering why his master was in such a hurry – they had the best part of two hours before boarding, surely, and Ven wasn't all that anxious to spend those two hours kneeling on the floor doing precisely nothing. Even people-watching was restricted when you had to keep your eyes down or risk having someone tell your master you were being impertinent, after all.

_"Would the owner of the blue Fiat Chariot, registration XA384 TAL please move it as it is causing an obstruction?"_

Items stowed, Ven straightened up and waited for his master's direction as to where they were going. 

Where they were going turned out to be ExLibris, which (naturally) had a store in the airport – they had shops everywhere else, why not the airport? Ven was told in no uncertain terms to wait outside with the case as his master vanished inside, for what purpose only he knew. 

It wasn't long before he reappeared, carrying a bag that contained at least one book. Something else for Ven to carry. He tried not to sigh as he took the bag, and obediently trailed his owner to another shop, again being made to wait outside... and again being given a bag to carry when his master emerged. This one seemed to have some sort of pillow or cushion in it.

"You were fidgeting enough in the car, I cannot think that you won't be fidgeting for a four-hour flight," his master said shortly, noticing Ven's expression.

"Thank you, Master," he murmured, though the fidgeting had been entirely his master's fault, of course. It took more than two days for the welts and bruising from a caning to fade, and it had only been two days since that dinner-party. Less, strictly speaking; that had been an evening meal, and it was barely lunchtime now.

His master didn't acknowledge his thanks, but merely snapped his fingers, indicating that Ven should follow him. They ended up at a seating area where they could see a screen with the flight announcements. His master dropped into a chair with a sigh, leaving Ven wondering what he was supposed to do. 

Apparently lunch was what came next. Ven had been pointed at a coffee shop and told to get food, trying not to be too surprised or overly grateful when he'd been directed to get food for himself as well. Although if he'd had his way, he would have had something other than the cheese and ham toastie and cup of fruit tea his master had told him he could have. The roast dormouse and olive sandwich his master was eating smelled much better. At least he'd had a choice of what flavour fruit tea he wanted, he supposed – and it wasn't as though he didn't like cheese and ham and he might have chosen that anyway, given an actual choice in the matter.

_"Would the owner of the slave named Ajax, identification number T95310, please come and claim him from the airport vigiles on Level 2."_

Ven winced privately, and nearly startled when his master tapped his shoulder, holding out an olive. 

"No hands," Master said quietly and Ven lowered his eyes, reaching to take it gently between his lips, pulling it carefully into his mouth and licking his master's fingers clean.

Lunch finished, and the wrappings discarded, Ven settled back down by his master's feet, mirroring the carry-on suitcase on his master's other side, and began people-watching. He had to be surreptitious about it, of course, because free people thought that a slave watching them openly was being impertinent, and he had no intention of anyone confronting his master to demand that his slave be stripped and whipped. He had no doubt his master would comply, however much he didn't want to; he would not take kindly to one of his slaves (especially one who should know better!) showing him up, and there were whipping posts scattered throughout the airport for immediate punishment in just such an event.

Ven had no idea how long they had been waiting, his master sitting in a chair, Ven kneeling on the floor at his feet (it was that, or stand; he did not fancy his chances at sitting on the furniture when there were free people around who might not appreciate a slave assuming he could put himself on their level). Eventually his master looked up at the screen, nodded and got to his feet. Ven glanced at the screen as he stood too, taking hold of the suitcase and the two carrier bags (shoving the smaller one into the larger to make them easier to carry).

_"Would the owner of the red Achilles Fidelis, registration number DN188TSK please return to your vehicle. You have left the headlights on."_

It was not long at all before they were boarding the plane, kicking the nervous feeling in Ven's stomach up a level or two. They were, naturally enough, flying business class, which mean Master got a comfortable seat by the window, with a jump-seat beside him for his slave. It was better than Ven's being herded right to the back of the plane, where the slaves of the standard-class passengers were put. 

"They used to put slaves on the same level as the cargo hold, but SIPAS put a stop to that after several cases of hypothermia," Master said off-handedly as Ven stowed the case in the overhead bin after extracting his master's laptop case from it. "The cushion is for you. It's a short flight, I doubt the airline staff have pillows or cushions to give out."

"Thank you, Master," Ven said, seating himself, feeling a little nervous as he strapped himself in and stowed the bag by his feet.

"Before you get too comfortable, pet, you can get your tablet out – stow it in the seat pocket for now. I want you to write me an essay about the sexual fantasies you have had, and describing them, in detail. I shall take a look at them, later."

"Yes, Master," Ven replied, going crimson.

"Thinking about what I will do to you will be a far better use of your time than staring aimlessly out of the window at the clouds, after all."

"Yes, Master," Ven said again, resuming his seat and slipping the tablet into the seat pocket in front of him, alongside the very tattered copy of last month's _Today's Slave_ and the emergency card.

It was not long at all before they were airborne and Ven found himself trying to compose an essay for his master, without going the colour of his tunic.

His master, on the other hand, had his own laptop open and was going over some report or other. He glanced across to Ven's screen. "You may be as crude as you like in the language you use. If you're stuck, think about things I have already done – what about them did you like, or not like?" He shrugged. "Though don't flatter yourself that I am going to actually do any of these things. I may, or may not, that is not for you to decide."

"Yes, Master."

“You have two hours.”

"Yes, Master."


End file.
